PREVIEW

... mind, forming a swastika-shaped pattern.

Buddha’s Mark!

In an instant, the swastika-shaped mark shone brilliantly, like a light screen, projecting the path Zhang Xuan had previously traveled.

Tianxuan Kingdom apprenticeship, rising to fame on Master Teacher Continent, becoming Nine Heavens Emperor in the Empyrean realm…

Scene after scene of memories flickered like flowing water, all stamped with the swastika, as if a watermark had been added to a film.

If ...

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Zhao Yelan was born as a criminal s*ave and was rescued by the Third Prince. After years of painstaking efforts to put him on the throne, Zhao Yelan became a sycophantic minister whom everyone detested, but he was actually given a marriage by that person to general Yan Mingting, the lone star of Tiansha.

The general caused the death of his father, his mother, his wife, and his dog. Everyone hoped that the general would kill Zhao Yelan as soon as possible.

On the wedding night, Zhao Yelan, who was dressed in red, took out a dagger, his eyes sharp: “What do you want?”

Yan Mingting held his hand tightly, and borrowed his dagger to carve a large character on the head of the bed – – Early.

“You’re weak and frail, get up early every day and practice horse stance with me!”

“?”

The common people thought this marriage was truly wonderful!

They heard that this big minister was beaten every day. He had to repair the roof tiles when the house leaked and also work in the kitchen. He served his husband and was very obedient, and from then on, he didn’t dare condemn people.

Hey, the general was truly mighty!

Zhao Yelan sat lazily by the bed, playing with the dagger, and raised the ends of his eyes slightly: “Where did these rumors come from?”

“From my dog’s mouth.” Yan Mingting, who was in horse stance, patted his thigh. “Madam, please take the seat of honor. You don’t have to get up early tomorrow.”

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Let someone else go to war, you, lucky Austria, go get married! What the god of war can give you, the god of love can also give you.

The smoke of the Napoleonic Wars has dissipated, and the Vienna system that once brought peace to Europe is riddled with holes. Beneath the seemingly peaceful appearance, there is a vortex of the times with undercurrents, the tranquility before the storm.

The air is filled with the steaming mist of sweat, and the choking black smoke makes it hard to breathe. On the elegant dining table, a group of soldiers and fat men in suits are pushing each other, feasting on the feast called the world, hanging on the wall Van Gogh’s self-portrait with waltz in his ears.

Suddenly the music turned into a march, and the picture also turned to the battlefield. Soldiers marched in a neat line, walking towards the machine gun barbed wire.

A shell fell on the ground, and after the smoke passed, countless cavalry rushed to the artillery position.

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